


so many stories of where I've been

by the9muses



Category: Firefly
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Backstory, Child Abandonment, Childhood Memories, F/M, Flashbacks, Greek Mythology References, Guns, I promise it's not as sad as it sounds, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Murder, Tags May Change, except now she does!, jayne is either comic relief or just there to get people to go where i need them to, like a lot of them, unresolved tension between Kaylee and a Serenity that does not want to be fixed, wait actually it is, zoë is in a constant dreamy haze and everyone is worried because zoë does not do that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the9muses/pseuds/the9muses
Summary: Zoë Washburne doesn't like to think of who she used to be. She buried that scared little girl in the back of her mind long ago, and she's barely given it a second thought since.But then the crew of Serenity is forced to land on a planet with far too many memories, and Zoë begins to remember everything she very pointedly forgot a long time ago.
Relationships: Hoban Washburne/Zoë Washburne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 8





	1. In Which Serenity Has Problems (and Zoë is totally fine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my Zoë backstory fic!  
> If you're looking for a happy baby Zoë you are in the wrong place :)

Serenity was a good ship. 

A stable one. Mostly. 

And the man flying it was very capable, the engineer bright and cheery and excellent at her job.

Course, it’s easy to forget those things when the ship is listing wildly and there’s things flying everywhere and it’s almost impossible to stand in one place. 

Zoë ran down the corridor, trying her best not to fall over, climbing up to the bridge.

“What the hell is goin’ on, Wash?” 

“Don’t ask him, he ain’t got any idea,” Mal, hanging onto a railing, grumbled. “Go ask Kaylee.” 

“If you really think I’m gonna go anywhere else with the ship tilting like this, sir, you’re quite mistaken.” 

“We have to land,” Wash said, not looking up from the controls. “Themis is right below us, we can dock there.” 

“Themis? That's a mite too fancy for us, don’t you think?” Mal joked, and Zoë smiled.

“Might be a bit fancy, but...hang on. Themis?

“Themis,” Wash confirmed, doing some flip switching thing. Zoë wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. 

“Where on Themis?” 

“Clotho sector’s closest.” 

Zoë inhaled sharply, and then forced a smile onto her face. “Clotho, huh.” 

“Wasn’t there some big Alliance donor from there?” Simon asked, stepping in. “And what’s going on, Wash? Kaylee wants to know."

“Wash don’t know either,” Mal informed him. 

“Well, anyway, there was a family on Themis, donated a lot to the Alliance. Can’t remember their name though, something started with—I don’t remember. Anyway, it might not be the best place for you.” 

“We’ll be fine. War ended six years ago, I doubt they’ll care much.” 

“Right,” Zoë muttered, “they won’t care. Just like we don’t care about the Alliance no more.” 

“What was that, Zoë?” 

“Nothin’, sir. Just a sarcastic comment you weren’t meant to hear.” 

“Good to know.”

One very bumpy landing and quite a few relieved sighs later, they disembarked from the ship, Kaylee and Wash going off to find the stuff they’d need to make Serenity flyable again. 

“Can we climb the hill?” River asked, gesturing towards the tall hill in front of them. "It'll help Zoë." 

"It will?" Zoë asked, eyeing River. She nodded solemnly. 

“Well, I don’t see why we can't climb it,” Mal said, and they set off to climb up the hill. 

Zoë had to admit, the view from the top of the hill was quite spectacular. The water stretched out in front of them, a rippling blue canvas that caught the light. 

And it felt far more familiar than Zoë was comfortable with.

She’d stood here before.

River looked at her and started to mutter something about...about rain.

And Zoë remembered. 

* * *

**Six Years Old**

It was raining the night Zoë Alleyne turned six. Not the gentle kind of rain that makes the crops grow and washes away the dust and the grime from the cities. No, it was the kind of rain that sinks into your bones and chills you to your core, makes the sea churn, makes you wish you’d stayed inside. The kind of rain that can only mean floods and bad things to come. No one should’ve been out in that kind of weather. But on top of a hill, both drenched in rain and shivering, stood two figures. 

“I wanna go inside, Momma,” the young girl whined. 

“We can’t go inside, Zoë. We don’t have to be out here much longer, you’ll be inside eventually.”

“But I wanna—”

“Not right now. You need to—” 

“But I don’t—” 

“Zoë. Be. quiet.” 

Zoë might’ve been little, she might not’ve wanted to do what her momma said, she might’ve not really been the kind of girl to do what someone tells you, but Zoë listened.

Zoë listened because she’d never heard her momma so terrified before.

She closed her mouth and stopped talking, stood in the freezing rain without a single complaint for what felt like hours.

At last, a car, a long fancy one unlike anything Zoë’d ever seen before, pulled up, and two figures got out. A man and a woman, dressed real fancy in clothes unlike anything Zoë’d ever seen before, both holding umbrellas.

“Kadri, I’d like to know what gives you the right to call us out here,” the woman said to Zoë’s mother, voice harsh, colder than the rain coming down, and Zoë just wanted to go home, to whatever ship she and her momma were living on right then.

“I know this isn’t great, Mom,” her mother said, pleading, “but I need to protect Zoë. You’re the only ones I trust to take care of her. _Please._ ” 

“Momma?” Zoë asked timidly. 

“Zoë, these are your grandparents.” 

“I got grandparents?” 

“Everyone has grandparents. These are yours.” 

Zoë looked to the people—her _grandparents_ —and gave them a wave. Maybe they would have candy, like the old woman she’d met on that transport ship. 

“Please?” Zoë’s momma asked, practically begging, and the woman sighed.

“We’ll take her." 

“Thank you so much. I promise this is only temporary. Just until I can make sure…” 

“Momma?” Zoë asked again. Her mother knelt down and brushed her fingers across Zoë’s cheek, something in her eyes that Zoë couldn’t quite read. 

“Wha’s happenin’, Momma?” 

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll come back for you.” 

“I don’ want you to go, Momma!” 

“You’re going to stay with Gramma and Grampa for a little while, darling. I’ve got to go,” she said hurriedly, glancing behind her out onto the port.

“No!” Zoë shrieked, and her mother looked helplessly at her grandparents. Zoë’s grampa walked forward and picked her up with one arm, just barely avoiding the kicks and punches.

“I’ll be back, Zoë, I promise. Won’t be more than a month or so,” Kadri promised, and then she turned around and disappeared into the night. 

Zoë flailed in her grandfather’s arms, wailing at the top of her lungs. “Momma!” 

“Zoë Alleyne, you stop it this instant,” her grandmother hissed. 

Zoë didn’t hear her over her cries for her mother. 

“Zoë! You will stop that _right now_!” 

“I want my momma!” 

“You cannot have your mother! You are going to stop crying, right now, and you will listen to what I say while you under my roof.” 

“I ain’t—”

“And you will use proper grammar. I’m not, not I ain’t. Understand?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Good. Now let’s get you home and find you some proper clothing. We can’t have you going around in _that_.”

Zoë looked down at her favorite shirt. “But—” 

“No,” her grandmother cut her off. “We’re not spending another minute outside in this rain.”

* * *

The memory dissipated as quick as it came, leaving Zoë disoriented and slightly dizzy. The first thing she noticed was River smiling at her. 

“You remember the rain.” 

“Sky’s perfectly clear, actually,” Mal said distractedly, scanning the horizon line for...something, he’d probably told Zoë at some point. 

“Not what I meant. Rain comes down hard. Cold. Wet. Zoë knows.” 

“River, could you stop talkin’?” 

“No.” 

Zoë sighed and trained her gaze on the horizon, tuning out River’s babbling. 

A week or so here couldn’t be _too_ bad.

Right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this as I go so the next chapter might be posted tomorrow or in 3 months. Somewhere in that range.  
> Thanks for reading! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.


	2. In Which Zoë Has Some Memories (and modern art makes an appearance)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Happy (belated) New Years!  
> I changed around the format of this one, it's not one big chunk of memory, it's a lot of italics and switching tenses so it might be a bit confusing. Definitely tell me if you have no idea what's going on :)

“Hey, Cap’n!” Kaylee chirped through the radio. “Wash’n I are at a bar down a few streets, meet us here? Oh, and leave River ‘n Simon with Serenity. Ain’t safe for ‘em here, judgin’ by all the Alliance flags.” 

"I'll get River back to the ship," Simon said, and the two walked off back to the ship.

“Where are you?” 

“There’s a little bar past the big park with the purple tree thing! It's called the Ruddy Duck!”

"Purple...tree?" Mal asked, confusion visible on his face.

"Some sorta sculpture I think. Look up and away from the sea, you'll see it!" 

Slowly, the group looked did as Kaylee had said, and, lo and behold, there was a purple tree-like thing. It certainly had leaves, though they were a vibrant purple color that Zoë had seen before on one of Wash's shirts, and maybe even...were those branches? They looked a little like branches, though they were quite...angular. And the trunk was very _square._

"Huh," Zoë said, perplexed. That hadn't been there when she'd lived here.

"I think," Shepherd Book said, "it's some sort of modern art piece."

"But ain't art supposed to be _pretty_?" Mal asked, tilting his head to look at it from a different angle.

"Why's it matter what some fancy art thing means?" Jayne grumbled as the rest of them stared up at it, trying to puzzle out what exactly it was. 

"Jayne's right," Mal decided, "We should go meet up with--" 

"Hang on, sir, did you just say Jayne was _right?"_ Zoë asked, feigning shock.

"Did I?" Mal asked, equally as mock-horrified. 

"Hey!" 

"Where are you guys?" Wash's voice crackled over the comm, and Zoë reached over and plucked it out of Mal's hand.

"We're comin', dear, just...admirin' the artwork," she told him and the group started walking in the direction of the purple...tree...thing.

As they walked along the streets, the memories swirled around Zoë, a moment there, a song here, a feeling around that corner and the next

_A hand clamped tightly on her shoulder, not enough to keep her eyes from wandering to the woman on the street corner, plucking at the strings of an instrument Zoë’s never seen before. A hissed warning and her eyes are torn away, forced to look at the display of dresses she has no interest in. There’s a party tonight, and Grandmother wants her to be dolled up nice and proper and look sweet and make people exclaim,_ Oh, what a lovely granddaughter you have! _Just like last time, with all those tall people talking about things Zoë didn’t understand. Things about core planets and the Earth-that-was, myths and legends and talk of important people she’s never heard of._

_Zoë’s never been to a funeral before. There are so many people, and they all come up to her and Grandmother and say_ We’re so sorry, how awful to lose him, will the two of you be alright? _Grandmother smiles sadly and says_ we’ll be fine _._

_Once they’re back at her house Grandmother goes up to her room and doesn’t come out for hours._

_It rains a lot, planetside._

_Zoë didn’t know how much water could come from the sky._

_A nice day, nicer than it’s been in months, and for once Zoë is allowed to play outside with supervision. She laughs at the sky and dances in the sunlight and is bubbling to the top when she goes back inside._

_She is too happy for her grandmother, who takes one look at Zoë’s muddy clothes and practically explodes._

_Zoë isn’t allowed outside for the next month, not even with her grandmother. It’s too hot to wear long-sleeved shirts anyway, and Grandmother doesn’t let her wear anything with short sleeves._

_She keeps her bedroom light on every night. That way Momma can tell which room is hers and come to get her. That way the two of them can fly away together and not have to worry about anything but each other._

_Zoë isn’t allowed in the attic, and her grandmother’s made the consequences for breaking rules very clear, but one day the door is open and Grandmother isn’t anywhere to be seen and so Zoë climbs up._

_Up in the attic, there’s a big box labeled Kadri and that’s her momma’s name! And so she opens the box._

_It’s full of photos and clothes and Zoë has the time of her life trying them on and looking through all the photos._

_After that, she goes up to the attic as often as she can, whenever Grandmother isn’t around._

_Her seventh birthday comes and goes, and her mother doesn’t come back for her. She will though. She_ promised _. The party her grandmother throws is grander than any Zoë’s ever seen and she has fun, she really does, and Grandmother is smiling and chatting and she even hugs Zoë once._

_Zoë starts turning the light out in her room when she goes to bed._

_Her mother won’t be able to see the lights from the front of the house anyway, she reasons. And besides, Grandmother doesn’t like her keeping the lights on at night._

_The days begin to blur together, each one just like the last. The same routine of school and home and Grandmother’s words hurled like knives and her hands fast faster than Zoë can see and expectations and fancy parties and whispered mentions of rebellion and assassinations and waiting waiting waiting for Momma to come back because she_ will. 

_Zoë doesn’t have friends, exactly._

_She has people who happen to be in the same room as her most days._

_Not friends._

_She’s leaving anyway, with her Momma, they’re gonna leave and she won’t come back so there’s really no point to making friends._

_Eighth birthday and ninth birthday and tenth birthday and nothing._

_No letters._

_No visits._

_No magical reunion where Momma whisks her away and they go on an adventure._

_Zoë keeps hoping._

_One more year._

_Just one more year._

_Her Momma’ll come back for her._

_Another year passes._

_Everything is the same._

_Zoë stops checking the mailbox every morning._

_Zoë stops looking through crowds for a familiar face._

_Zoë stops going up to the attic._

_Zoë stops hoping._

“Know what I’m sayin’, Zoë?” Jayne asked, and Zoë blinked.

“I-no. I don’t.” 

Jayne carried on talking, and Zoë tuned out. 

So maybe she needed to revise her original statement. A week or so here and she'd probably end up crazy as River. 

"Preacher, you sure you want to come with us?" Mal asked as they stopped in front of a small, quite shabby building with a large banner identifying it as the Ruddy Duck.

"No, I think I'll sit this one out," the shepherd decided (quite wisely if you asked Zoë). "I'll just head back to the ship."

The group of what was now three made their way through the door.

"This is more our style," Mal said, looking around. Zoë had to agree. It was a little small, a little crowded, and a little difficult to hear over whatever shouting match was going on in the back.

“Hey Cap’n! We're over here!” Kaylee said happily, waving them over to the booth where she and Wash were sitting. Zoë slid in next to Wash, and he handed her a drink. 

"Hey, where's my drink?" Jayne complained. 

"Get your own."

"You got Zoë a drink!"

"She's my wife," Wash explained.

"So?" 

"So if you don't stop complaining I'll hurt you," Zoë told him, and Kaylee giggled. 

"Didja see all the fancy stuff! Everythin’ is so expensive!" she said excitedly.

“So can you fix my ship?” Mal said, changing the subject abruptly.

Kaylee deflated visibly. “Uh, no. I still ain’t got a clue as to what’s wrong with her. And like I said, it’s all so expensive, even if I _did_ know what was goin’ on with her we probably couldn’t afford anythin’.” 

“So then find out what’s wrong." 

"I'll try, but—"

"No buts. You're gonna fix my gorram ship."

“Sorry, excuse me," a voice broke in from behind Zoë, "this might be a bit odd, but...you look familiar." Zoë turned around to look at whoever'd said that. "Uh, your name wouldn’t happen to be Zoë, would it?”

“Depends who’s asking,” she said coolly, eyeing the man standing in front of her. He looked ever so slightly familiar, she had to admit. 

“Are you? Zoë Alleyne?” 

Zoë raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that name from?” 

“So...you are Zoë?” 

“We seem to have agreed on that point, yes, but who are you?”

“Uh, it’s, uh. It’s Jasper.” 

Zoë stared at him. “Well ain’t that somethin’.” Now that she knew who he was, she could easily see the boy she'd known so long ago.

“Yeah, I guess it is," he said, breaking into a smile. "It's good to see you again. After you got shipped off to boarding school—”

“After I got shipped off _where_?” 

“Boarding school? St. Dymphna's? The one on Persephone?” 

Zoë laughed out loud. “St. Dymphna’s? Have I got a story for you.” 

“I’d...I'd love to hear it. Can I... buy you a drink?” 

“No,” Wash said. “She has one.” 

“Well, can I buy you a second one?”

“If you buy me a drink I’ll be payin’ you back for the rest of eternity, Jas, I know how your brain works,” Zoë said, the nickname rolling off her tongue easily.

“Come on, Zo! I would have thought after twenty years you'd have sanguined—”

“Used it wrong. I woulda thought after twenty years maybe you’d be able to use it right. Guess not.” Zoë smirked.

“Why don’t you use it in a sentence then, if you’re such a genius,” he challenged.

“Well, if you say so. Wh—” 

“Zoë, mind explainin’ exactly what is goin’ on here?” Mal said, interrupting the conversation. 

“Yeah!” Wash chimed in.

Oh, right. 

They had no idea Jasper existed. 

Zoë gestured to him. “Cap’n, Wash, everyone, meet Jasper Alleyne. My little brother.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I haven't forgotten Inara exists, she's just been...conveniently not around


End file.
